


Hawa's Tales of Fuckruary 2020

by Hawa_DL



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Fisting, Frottage, Fuckruary 2020 (Lucifer TV), Grinding, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Hands, Light Dom/sub, Lingam Massage, Massage, Mild Angst, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Masturbation, No Beta, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pillow Talk, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostate Massage, Recreational Drug Use, Restraints, Rough Oral Sex, Shower Sex, Slice of (Sex)Life, Spanking, Stripping, Switching, Tantra, Tantric Massage, Vaginal Fingering, We Die Like Men, exotic dancing, penis worship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:00:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22535893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawa_DL/pseuds/Hawa_DL
Summary: In an alternate universe where Lucifer and Chloe have finally gotten together, they take their time delving into the steamier side of their relationship.After all, as Ella had once pointed out, what's Deckerstar without the unbearable sexual tension?Though to be fair, there'll probably be plenty of it left over when the levee breaks.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 35
Kudos: 252





	1. Desire

**Author's Note:**

> My slightly late entry into the Fuckruary2020 challenge. Thanks for the inspiration, guys. Smut is probably the best excuse ever to start writing again. Tags will be added with each chapter as they become applicable.

Lucifer loved seeing her like this when they were at the precinct, ponytail neat and straight, swaying with every determined stride she took toward him, face stern, eyes serious, sweet bow lips pressed firmly together as she glared at him with the full weight of her will. He'd been doing his best to rile her up all day just for this. She was probably going to smack him stupid and he'll love it, beg her to do it again in private and she won't, so he'll relish the sting while it lasts, the way it'll rush through his jaw and the base of his skull all the way down to his balls, wank himself raw to the remembered feel of it once he's left to another lonely night at home alone.

He'd thought once they'd started dating things between them would change—had feared they would, even—but things were still mostly the same. Just sometimes when she gets mad at him at work like this, she'll slap his arm, his hand, his shoulder, his thigh, his back, any piece of him that she can reach, just to watch his eyes go black and his lips part and his breath ghost from his lungs, and oh, he loves it, the way her smirk turns dark and knowing and prideful, how willing and able she is to wield this power over him. It was a game they fell into at the end of their first date, when she _still_ wouldn't sleep with him even after the most mind-blowing make out session he'd ever experienced—in all of _eternity_ —and he saw how hot his begging got her, how having him so desperate for her made her feel like she was ten feet tall, and he'd been wanting her for so long that getting to kiss her when she let him now but still having to wait for it, still being made to _want_ … Well, it was a duality that was novel to him.

This was a new sort of foreplay for the Devil, a sort of thing he'd never known existed before his relationship with her had been taken to this level, and he loved it, the way the desire between them kept building impossibly higher. He was a weak man and he was eternally grateful to the detective for being willing to control the pace, for being strong enough to make this exquisite tension last, because he surely would've given in long before now and would never have known he was missing out on what was shaping up to be the most profound sexual experience of his life.

The detective fairly stalked him as he backed slowly out of the main bullpen of the precinct and into a hall that he felt was less populated enough for her to feel freer with him once she had him cornered. He was a pulsing ache of need and want and desire, and her every step nearer sent his blood racing southward so quickly he was just barely on the best side of dizzy. She walked straight up to him, all implacable will and determination, and she didn't stop once she'd reached him, pushing him backwards into the wall, tripping him up on purpose so he fell against it and had to catch himself with both hands, one of hers grabbing him by his tie before he could right himself and keeping him anchored to her eye level.

Lucifer smiled to feel so much of her weight bearing down on his chest and he smiled even more once he noticed the vein throbbing in the detective's temple. “ _Well_. Hello to you too, darling.”

She looked like she well and truly wanted to throttle him. “Lucifer. When I said help me with my paperwork so we can get out of here, I _did not_ mean fill in all the blank spaces with… _stupid_ —”

“You mean _fantastic_ Deckerstar smut?”

She tightened her grip on his tie, leaned into him just that little bit more, put just enough pressure on her elbow into his solar plexus to make him moan while his cock twitched. “Yeah, _that_ ,” she said, with the same threatening tilt to her head that she stared down LA's most dangerous with everyday, only the look in her eyes was something new, something raw and burning and just for him, and _oh_ , how he loved her like this. “What the hell were you thinking?”

He swallowed hard, smile growing at the way she tracked his adam's apple as it bobbed. “Well, Detective, we both know I'm not really one for paperwork. I figured my time would be put to much better use compiling a… well, a list of sorts.”

Her voice was softness over a hard edge as she spoke next, eyeing him up and down. “A list of _what_ , exactly?”

His hands twitched to hold her as the fantasies swirled through his mind once more.

She noticed and leaned into him again. Oh, Hell, was he hard now. “Keep your hands against the wall, Lucifer. You shouldn't get to touch me at all when you've done nothing but _deliberately_ piss me off all damn day.”

He should probably stop smiling at this, but he just couldn't help himself. “But it gets you so wet every time, darling.”

“And it gets you up when I yell at you. You want me wound up tight so you can be the one to spring me, right? Isn't that what you wrote in one of your little stories?”

He moaned, his head tipping back against the wall—half-lidded eyes, toothy grin—all victory and submission and sheer bloody joy. His desires in her voice were going to drive him insane. “ _Yes_.”

“And that other one? Where you're going down on me? You said I must have a cunt like a 'font of ambrosia.'”

“ _Chloe_.” She always talked dirty when she was mad now, and he absolutely loved it. 

“Is that true? Think I could keep you fed and watered on nothing but _me_?”

“Yes. _Yes_.”

“How about where I'm fucking you?”

“Chloe. Oh, _fuck_.” He caught sight of her smile just as his eyes finally slid closed. She knew she'd won his composure from him the moment the curse left his lips.

“Is that what you want, Lucifer? Is that what the mighty King of Hell _desires_?”

“ _Yes_. Yes, Detective, _yes_.”

“I'd make you beg for it, you know—”

“ _Please_ , yes.”

“—but from what I read, that's exactly what you want.”

“Oh, _fuck_ , love. How much did you read?”

Her lips were soft against the lobe of his ear and he trembled. “Every word, Lucifer. Every—damn—word.”

He moaned, dared to open his eyes again to see hers burning back at him.

“I want to know what you desire, Lucifer.”

“Yes.”

“So, since you're useless at getting actual police work done today, I want you to write out every dirty thought in your brain, every fantasy you've ever had, everything you've ever wanted to do to me—everything you want _me_ to do to _you_.”

“Fuck yes.”

“Good. I wanna know it all, Lucifer. And you're gonna tell me. Big, little, silly, insane, you're gonna tell me everything now. Whether it's your dick talking or your heart, I wanna know. Tell me what you desire.”

“ _You_ , darling. Just you.”

She smiled at him and caressed his face with her free hand, with a love and tenderness he never thought he'd receive, never even thought he might want before her.

 _This_ , he wanted to say—to that look in her eye, that warmth in her touch. _Just this._

She just kept smiling and said, “You have me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed. Pardon any errors. I typed, read once, then posted, but hopefully there's nothing too jarring. lol
> 
> If the spirit moves ya, leave a comment.
> 
> Live long and prosper and all that jazz.


	2. Tease

Chloe felt bad sometimes for teasing Lucifer so much. She would swear that she was positively cruel at times and she'd nearly apologize, throw in the towel on this stupid game, and give in to what they both wanted, but then she'd see the smile on his face, in his eyes—see the way he filled his trousers—and remember that he really did love this, and no, she wasn't actually being the queen B of ice queens.

She was simply trying her hand at being the Devil.

This was what he wanted, and no one had ever been able to give him what he wanted, not really, not when he didn't realize he'd only been scratching the surface of what sex was his whole way-too-long life. The intimacy was so massively foreign to him, so shiny new, that he wanted to take his time adjusting to it, wanted to feel out every nuance of it, wanted to drag each step forward out for days and days and weeks on end, and she was happy to give that to him.

But that didn't mean she couldn't still get hers.

The first time she got off on him, they were making out on her couch like a couple of horny teenagers. Their hands stayed chaste, but their legs were threaded and knotted together, and once his lips migrated to her neck and his fingers grasped her hair and angled her head just so… well, her hips had a mind of their own after that, but she had enough sense to break his grip on her and scoot down so she was riding low on his thigh, so he could feel her moving but it would never be enough. And as luck would have it, the move had put her right on line with his chest, which she nipped and kissed at through his shirt to her heart's content while Lucifer's hands just kept moving, holding her to him however they could.

Lucifer's voice was a low, constant thrum of encouragement as she chased her peak over him, a background noise in her head as her own cries grew sharper and higher, and when she finally came it was _amazing_ but it wasn't nearly enough—not anywhere near enough—so she bit once more, probably too hard, at the nipple she'd been suckling through silk before she sat upright and rode him hard into her couch, throwing her head back in abandon and just _taking_ , _taking_ , _taking_ —and thank actual God for supernatural strength because she wasn't holding back at all and she didn't have to worry about his knee trying to go the wrong way, didn't have to worry about the tremors running through his limbs or the long, loud moans dragging themselves out of his throat and what it all might mean because she knew with the Devil it could only mean one thing.

He was losing his fucking mind.

And when she finally found the release she needed, once the angle was better— _perfect_ —and Lucifer had held her by the hips and helped her keep her rhythm strong, even through the aftershocks, only then did she lace her fingers with his and slow, locking eyes with him, and damn but he looked absolutely _wrecked_ , flushed and starry-eyed and panting and _perfect_ and _hers_ —this was all for her—and she smiled at him with all the love in her heart because this was (literally and figuratively) the man who'd given her the sun and all the stars and how was it possible that someone this perfect wanted _her_? But he did so she was his, _so_ his, _all_ his for the taking, if only he said the word—and then he did, when he met her smile, and kissed her knuckles, and asked very politely if he might please come in his pants too.

She told him yes—because of course she told him yes—and he about sagged with the relief he felt. But Chloe took her assigned mission of drawing out every iota of pleasure Lucifer's body and soul could muster very seriously, so instead of grinding against him again right away, she opened his shirt and spent the better part of the next hour torturing his nipples with lips and teeth and tongue and slow, sucking kisses and pinching, caressing fingers, and she only gave into the urge to move her hips once his begging was too pretty for her to stand anymore. He met every hard thrust of her pussy against his cock with a shout, his body taught and trembling, eyes closed against the onslaught, and Chloe kept her pace slow because she didn't what to overwhelm him.

Well, not too much anyway.

And he sang her praises in his sweet voice the entire time, bit his own lips red whenever words or breath wouldn't find him, and she only picked up the pace once he'd opened those beautiful eyes of his and she could see they were as clear as could be expected when he was so—fucking— _hard_ underneath her, and then his eyes snapped closed again and he fairly wailed for her— _“yes, yes, yes, yes”_ —and his hands convulsed in their grip on her hips, wanting to take control, but she didn't let him, not yet, not until the next desperate plea passed his swollen lips and then she let him have her, move her so her center came down hardest on the head of his dick every time, moving faster than she would've been able to on her own, and when he didn't flip them over she hooked her arms under his, anchored one hand on his shoulder, the other deep in his hair, yanked his head back, and latched teeth and lips to the base of his throat. He bucked and stuttered and restarted beneath her, wild and frenzied, taking what he needed from her with abandon, his cries loud and strident, either vulgar or wordless, and he was so lost in her and he was _perfect_.

And when Lucifer came—when he finally, _finally_ came—it was with silence and a grip hard enough to bruise, and she held him through that too, and when the aftershocks came and he sobbed a breath as he quaked apart on her couch because holy shit he was still spurting in his pants, she held him through that too, while his feet scrambled for purchase against the cushions because his balls were finally empty but were still pulsing, still trying to give her everything he was, she held him through that too, until he finally gasped in another breath and kept on gasping, until the shakes settled to fine tremors to loose muscles, until his hands on her hips relaxed some and then finally moved, hugging her properly now, until his gasps turned to easy breathing, she held him tightly through it all.

It was only when he made to bury his face in her hair that she eased off her hold on the back of his head and her bite on his neck, to caress and nurse him there while he just breathed and melted and floated back into himself.

That was the first escalation their teasing ever took, and it never really went back down. They spent almost two weeks in that holding pattern, kissing each other senseless until one or the other of them would break and get Chloe off on him, rutting in their clothes like the mindless, love-struck fools they were, and then drawing out Lucifer's release for as long as Chloe could stand it. She was annoyed that she had yet to find his line, that for all this power he gave her over him, the only limits being pushed so far were hers, but he was _perfect_ and _hers_ and she loved it and she loved _him_ , so annoyed or not she went through her days almost constantly wet for him, just waiting for the night he would finally push back.

And then came that damn list, all those short, dirty little stories in Lucifer's beautiful handwriting, painting pictures in her mind of his every desire, a list that grew with every day she had to spend at her desk doing paperwork. With Lucifer's fantasies in hand, Chloe decided it was about time to spice things up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed. If the spirit moves ya, leave a comment.
> 
> Live long and prosper and all that jazz.


	3. Hands

> _I want to touch you, love… I want to trace my hands over every inch of you… want to draw it out for you, the way you do for me, so that when I finally slip my fingers in between your lips, you're absolutely drenched for me…_

“Touch me,” she breathed between kisses, clutching his wrists and dragging his hands up from her waist until they were just shy of cupping her breasts. “ _Touch me_.”

Lucifer moaned and obeyed, and he touched her there for the first time, _finally_ , these beautiful breasts that he'd fantasized about since before he'd even met the detective, and he savored it, cherished the weight of them in his hands and the keening moan she pressed into his mouth, the arch of her spine as he kneaded her through her blouse, the hitch of her hips as he brushed his thumbs over hardening nipples. Once they were properly erect, he spent an extraordinary amount of time pinching and rolling and plucking them between his fingers, and Chloe broke their kiss to throw her head back on his sheets instead, moaning endlessly and writhing beneath him, wanton, an absolute vision of desire in a sea of black silk.

“You're so beautiful like this, darling,” he crooned, lowering his head to feel her with his tongue next, but she caught him gently about the throat and lifted his head once more. The sheer possessiveness of the move sent his head spinning.

“Just your hands,” she said, nipping at his lip. “Just your hands. You said you wanted to trace your hands over every inch of me…”

“ _Yes_.”

“This is your chance.”

Lucifer didn't need to be told twice, pressing his hands flat to her chest and dragging them up over throat to cup her jaw and diving back down to kiss her with abandon. Her tongue met his stroke for stroke and her legs wrapped about his hips to draw him close while her hands made a mess of his hair. His hands longed to journey all over her, but he took his time, drawing one hand back around her throat to start with while the other cupped the base of her skull, remembering how it felt when she held him that way, wondering if maybe she liked it too.

She did.

More than he'd thought she would given how much she enjoyed making these little displays of dominance over him. But the soft whine from her throat was unmistakable, even if he felt it through the tips of his fingers more than heard it, so he pulsed his grip, tightening and loosening by turns, and then the whine wasn't soft anymore and her breasts were heaving against his chest and her hands were clutching at his hair, encouraging him to maul her mouth, to claim her, to _ruin_ her, and so he did, pressing his cock even harder against her core through their clothes and dragging her by hair and throat into his kiss so he could _consume her_ —because she really _did_ want to be his, just as clearly as he was hers, she _desired_ this and so he would brand his touch into her every cell.

When Chloe broke their kiss with a desperate gasp for air, Lucifer moved his hands to her shoulders, pressed a single kiss to her throat before peppering her face with them, massaging her shoulders and working his way down her arms all the while. Once he reached her hands, he threaded their fingers together and brought them up above their heads while he lavished attention on her neck, eventually holding both her wrists in one hand so as to let the other roam her torso, and she moaned and surrendered herself to his touch, her hips rocking up to meet his, her head thrown back to give him as much of her as he wanted to take.

Until he tried to slip his hand under her shirt.

As soon as he tried it, she slipped her hips away from his and shrimped out from under him to the side, never minding the wrists in his grasp or the legs around his hips. She let him mount her again, but he was desperate to feel her skin—to finally get to touch and to have and to _own_ —so he tried again, and again, and each time she'd squirm away, and it was _maddening_ , absolutely maddening, and this was not his night to beg and plead, this was the night she had given herself to him and how _dare_ she deny him that now?

So when she did it again, he tore himself from her legs and threw her over and smacked her once, hard, square on the ass.

He froze instantly, fearing he'd overstepped, but as soon as she felt him go still behind her, she whined and gave him her rear with a wiggle and cried out, “ _Green_! Oh, please, green, green, green!”

Lucifer smiled and relaxed. That's right, this was _her_ night to beg. “Oh, Detective,” he purred. “You're going to regret that.”

It turned out that he had a lot more pent up frustration from these last few weeks than he'd thought. He recounted every cruel tease she'd ever used to torture him with each strike of his hand to her bum, and she gave sharp little cries with each one— _“oh, oh, oh!”_ —and his rhythm kept picking up, faster and faster, until she sounded like he was fucking her, fucking her hard, fucking her so good, and he just knew she was absolutely _soaked_ right now, and how in the Hell was it possible to be this turned on when they were still fully clothed?

He paused in his spanking, rubbing her tender ass and relishing the way she trembled and pressed into his touch with a ragged moan. “Let me feel you now. Let me touch you the way I've always wanted to. I want your skin on mine.” He would not say please this night, but it was a near thing.

Chloe rolled over and met his eyes for a long moment before nodding. “Yes.” She sat up and started working on his shirt and he did the same to hers, claiming her mouth in another kiss, skating his fingers across each new inch of bare skin as he unfastened the buttons lining her stomach. He finished hers first, and when Chloe pulled back to shrug it off, Lucifer busied himself with his own garment, letting his eyes trace over the expanses of her smooth, pale skin and the peach lace of her bra. He was just trying to make out the outline of her nipples through it when she covered his eyes with her folded shirt.

He groaned. “Oh, no. You _must_ be joking.”

She kissed the corner of his mouth as she tied the top tightly at the back of his head. “Just trust me.”

He sighed and gave in. “Always, my love.”

He finished taking off his shirt and was just about to start on his slacks when her hand covered his on his fly.

“Not yet,” she said.

He huffed. “Of course not.”

She laughed at him, but he was too preoccupied listening to the slide of her jeans' zipper to mind. She left the bed just long enough for the sound of tight fabric being pulled across skin to drive his imagination wild, and he had the thought that this was actually a pretty good idea after all. Then she was kneeling in front of him again, knees to knees, and she lifted his hands, kissed each palm, and set them on her thighs. His breath left him in a shudder as he started to explore and then again when she brought his mouth back to hers. The blindfold was a very, very good idea.

He made a questioning noise once he encountered her panties, just as lacey as the bra he'd caught a glimpse of earlier.

“You can take them off whenever you want,” she said, lips brushing his. “And you can touch me wherever you want. _How_ ever you want. Please. Whatever you have to give me, _I want it_.”

“Oh, you're going to get it, love, don't you worry about that.”

Lucifer was pleased that there were precious few rules to this game, that they were pretty much the same as they'd always been: their mouths stayed shoulder level or higher and they could bump and grind to their hearts' content (and the contentment of other pieces of anatomy). But now there were hands in play. And one of them was as good as naked, would be fully naked shortly. This was absolutely bloody amazing, is what this was.

Her bra was the first thing to go. He decided to get back at her for that stunt she pulled two weeks ago when she did nothing to him for a straight hour but play with his nipples. Hell and damn, but how he wished he could see them now. He pushed her back onto the bed and covered her body with his, straddling both her legs so she had nothing but empty space between her thighs, mouthing hungrily at her neck and rolling her nipples between his fingers, rubbing his chest gently against the very tips of them and oh, how she _quaked_ at that, clutching his arms and calling his name, but he was relentless and he was merciless and he would not stop until the hour was up.

Or at least, that was the plan, but then around forty minutes in something unexpected happened.

“Are you coming right now?”

“Fuck, yes! Ohhhh, yes, yes, fuck! Oh, fuck, baby!”

Lucifer grinned. “Well, aren't you just full of surprises, Detective? How marvelous.”

“Please, Lucifer!” she begged as soon as she started to come down. He could feel her legs moving rapidly together between his own and she was squirming like mad beneath his chest. “Oh, baby, please, I need more!”

He nuzzled beneath her chin, but offered no relief. “I'm sure you do. What do you desire, Chloe?”

“Please, I want— _ungh_!”

“Yes?”

“I want your fingers in my pussy!”

“Mm, _damn_. Detective, that mouth of yours is positively delightful. It'll almost be a shame the day I fill it.”

“I'm sure—it'll be—delightful then too.”

“Mm, that's why I said almost.”

“ _Baby_ …”

He chuckled. “Of course I'm going to set my fingers to that sweet pussy of yours, my dear. I'll stroke you to orgasm so many times, you'll have gone mad by the time I decide you've had enough. But there's so much left of you to explore before then, love, so I suggest you sit back and relax. This is going to be a long ride.”

And oh, how long it was. Lucifer reveled in getting the opportunity to turn the tables on Chloe, absolutely delighted in getting to hold her pleasure hostage until it was time for her to feel it, to reel it out slowly so that she only ever felt just what he wanted her to feel just when he wanted her to feel it. And feel it she did.

She felt _him_.

That's all she called was his name, cursing him and begging him by turns, sometimes both at once, and she was simply wonderful like this. Her entire world was focused solely on Lucifer, and he _fucking loved it_. So of course he caved after a time. She was on her stomach, his hands had been tracing up and down the backs of her thighs, kneading her bare buttocks, caressing that tight little hole and wishing more than anything in that moment that he could see what it looked like under his fingers, and he just lost it.

He pulled her hips up to meet his and ground his cock into her naked pussy, smearing her nectar all over the tented front of his trousers, and he almost hoped it would stain, that there be some permanent change to _something_ to commemorate the sound she made with each thrust and the absolutely unreal way she made him feel, so fucking much, and his hands were tangled in her hair and he was pressing her down, pulling her in, and he's fucking her so fucking hard right now and she's wailing his name and it's perfect—except he's not really fucking her at all and why the Hell isn't at least one of them getting off right now?

So he fumbled his way between her legs with one hand until he found her clit and he fingered it until she came, and then he slid a couple fingers inside her and massaged her walls and searched for her G-spot, and he had to move his hips out of the way a bit to get the right angle, but once he found it he fingered that until she came again, and then he went back outside to her clit, and then inside, then outside, then inside—and he had just touched her clit again when she grabbed his wrist.

“Yellow!” she yelped. “Holy fuck!”

“Alright there?” he panted.

“ _Amazing_. Holy shit. Tender as fuck. Holy shit, Lucifer.”

They both collapsed side by side on his bed, trying to catch their breath, and Chloe caught his messy hand and brought it to her lips. When she took a finger into her mouth to suck, his eyes went rolling behind the blindfold.

Too soon, she released the finger with a _pop_. “Damn, these _hands_ ,” she moaned into his wrist, and he shuddered. “I've always wanted these hands, babe, before you ever opened your mouth and you were just sitting there at that piano looking way too perfect. I love these hands.”

And then she was sucking at him in earnest, dragging her tongue over his palm and around each digit, thirsty for every drop of her juices she could get from him, and he was so damned happy to let her do as she pleased, desperate and moaning at each stroke up his fingers, savoring the echoing throb in his cock at every bob of her head. She didn't release him until long after he was clean, and as soon as she did he was on her, kissing the taste of her from her lips and tongue and just _drowning_ in this woman, so delightful, so amazing, and everything he'd ever wanted, and she was _his_.

He had to have her again.

Lucifer broke their kiss and felt his way between her legs again, searching further back, reaching for the hole he'd yet to truly feel. “I know you're sore, love,” he said into her mouth, circling a finger around the bud of her ass, “but may I touch you here?”

She moaned and trembled for him. “ _Yes_. Where's your lube?”

“Bedside table. Top drawer of course.”

“Of course.”

She was handing him the bottle in a moment, kissing him long and slow while he slicked up, kissing him still at the first press of his finger. The further he pressed, the more boneless she went until he was kissing from her neck to her shoulders and back up again because everything in her had just gone so _lax_ by this point that she was useless, and he realized that she had definitely done this before and knew how to enjoy it. It took three fingers fucking into her, slow and deep like her kisses had been, before she started moaning again, louder and more guttural than anything he'd heard from her yet, and the sound alone was almost enough to make him come, the picture in his mind of the day these velvet walls were tightening around his cock instead of his fingers while she came, and came and came and came again until he finally spilled himself in these depths.

Oh, how he longed for it.

As her hips started meeting each thrust of his hand, she dug her fingers into his hair and brought his mouth up to hers and kissed him, her tongue still lazy and tripping but desperate— _desperate_ to feel him and so he gave himself to her, was already hers for the taking, had _always_ been hers for the taking, and as she came apart under him he slipped his last finger in and pressed, still so slow and steady, as she bore down on his hand and rode her orgasm out to the finish, and still he kept on pressing into her.

“Think we'll get the whole fist in tonight, love?”

She moaned and clutched harder at his hair for a moment. “Only one way to find out.”

And she relaxed again, so boneless and loose and trusting, and he _loved_ her like this, only this time there were still waves of pleasure flowing through her, and he loved the feel her body yielding to his, the feel of her aftershocks tensing around his fingers, and he just kept going, kept kissing her throat, her shoulders, her lips, kept smoothing his free hand over her brow to make sure she was still green, but she kept herself so lax for him, because she _wanted_ this, wanted him inside her as much as he wanted to be there, so they were going to make it work.

And they did.

After, Lucifer was laying back on his bed in a haze, sans blindfold, his love curled into his chest and wearing his shirt and nothing else. He just kept staring at the ceiling, one hand— _the_ hand—cradled close to his heart. That…was above and beyond his wildest expectations. Chloe had clutched at him while he was inside her, moving in her, with her arms and legs and everything she was inside, she'd held fast to him, so tender and welcoming and warm and so his, _all_ his, and she'd said… so many sweet things, so many wonderful things, and when she finally came around him, he'd never felt so loved before, like where he belonged and where he wanted to be and where others wanted him to be were all the same place, and he'd never known it could even _be_ like this, making love to another soul. He thought he'd experienced all the many varieties of sex there were, but fisting had never been like _that_ before.

“What the Hell was that?”

Chloe moaned softly, nipped lightly at his nipple. “Whassat?”

“Chloe… is that always what it's like?”

“Lucifer, babe, my brain is literally scrambled right now. What're we talkin' about?”

He huffed and felt her smile stretch against his chest. “Sex. Between couples. Is it always like this?”

“Mmm. Yes and no.”

“Come now, Detective. Wake up and answer the question.”

She groaned and lifted her head, and she blinked at him with bleary eyes for a moment before thinking back on his question. He could tell as soon as she thought it through, because one of those small smiles spread across her face that wasn't actually small at all. Lucifer swore he could see the entire universe shining through her eyes when she smiled like this, and it brought home every time that there were still mysteries to Creation that he'd yet to uncover, but he had an inkling he'd stumbled headlong into one of them tonight.

“Lucifer.” She had that particular tone to her voice, the one that said he was something sweet and precious. “No, it probably won't always be that way. Sometimes sex should just be fun, don't you think?”

“Of course. Yes, yes, of course you're right.” And despite his best efforts, his disappointment came across loud and clear.

“But it _can_ always be that way. Whenever you want it, whenever you need it, I'm always happy to make love to you.”

Lucifer smiled back at her. He could feel his heart beating in his throat in the best of ways. “Is that what that was?”

Chloe nodded. “Yeah. That's what that was.”

“But we didn't do anything to make it special, certainly none of that was planned, we just…”

She kissed him before he could find the words. “We love each other always. We don't need to prepare to show it. We _can_ , but we don't need to.”

“How is it that I don't know these things? Pleasures of the flesh have been a passion of mine for eons. How do I not know this?”

She sighed, worried the skin of his neck with her teeth, while her hands drifted down his torso, slowly popping the buttons of his fly. “ _Lucifer_.”

He moaned as she slipped her hand inside his trousers to wrap around him, stroking steadily until he grew hard for her.

“What we just did, it felt like you literally had my heart in your hand.”

“Oh, _yes_.”

“And it feels like that's exactly where it always is, where it always should be.”

“Chloe… _fuck_.”

“Tell me, Devil,” she asked with a cruel twist of her wrist that had him arching into her, “where do you feel me most now? Am I only in your flesh?”

“No,” he shook his head. “No, it's more. Oh, _fuck_ , oh, love, it's so much more.”

“'Cause these are pleasures of the _soul_ , babe.”

And in the next moment, Lucifer saw stars through human eyes, and it was damned good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed. If the spirit moves ya, leave a comment.
> 
> Live long and prosper and all that jazz.


	4. Stripping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a general note on this story as a whole, every chapter has the potential to be nonlinear. Since I'm making it up as I go, we're going to be skipping around during the different stages of Deckerstar's evolving sexcapades in no particular order.

> _I swear to you, Detective, that it is no exaggeration when I say I will spontaneously combust if you do not put that thrice damned pole to its proper use…_

Chloe had snorted and blushed all sorts of interesting shades of red when she'd read Lucifer's most recent desire. They'd been working their way slowly through Lucifer's list, and it kept growing longer as the days went by. Normally, Chloe was always thrilled to read it, but this latest addition was going to be the most challenging one yet by far.

She should most definitely blame the Tribe for this. It all started with that stupid gag gift they'd given her for her birthday: a standing pole in the middle of her living room for her to use with those pole dancing exercise videos. She had not been amused.

Until she'd tried it.

They all had, and they'd all had a blast, and Chloe decided against all odds that she'd keep it— _and_ keep using it—which then presented her with a problem she'd never in her life thought she'd have: where, oh, where should she store her exotic dance pole? It certainly couldn't stay with her since she had her daughter far too often for that to be feasible.

In the end, Lucifer's was the only place for it.

So as much as she could blame this whole thing on the Tribe, Chloe knew it was almost entirely on her. She was the one who decided to store it at Lucifer's place, who decided that was a safe space to dance in, and she was the one who was over there practicing on it almost everyday while he very obviously stared at her the entire time. She'd always just ignored him because she wasn't ever dancing for him, in spite of the nature of their relationship nowadays. When Chloe was on that pole, it was only ever for herself. She took to it like a bird to flying, and it made her feel just as free. She'd never really had a hobby before this, something that she did just for herself, just to have fun.

Chloe had never been one for dancing before this either. She was awkward and clumsy and uncertain any time she tried sober, but spinning around and defying gravity had a way of making anybody feel graceful and sexy and untouchable. And, if Lucifer's note was anything to go by, it could make anybody actually _look_ like those things too. Though he did have one hell of a pair of rose colored glasses on when it came to her. This latest story wasn't even a story at all really, just an overly detailed description of how he thought she looked when she danced and everything it made him feel, and everything it made him want to do to her. It was _intensely_ flattering, but herself through his eyes couldn't possibly be reality.

But maybe herself through her own eyes wasn't any more accurate.

In spite of everything they'd already done together, performing for him like this would be a whole other type of vulnerability for her. But… Chloe thought of the way he always stared at her when she was lost in her own world and the music and the flow, of the way he was always so spellbound by her just being… well, _her_ —and she realized that she'd probably still have all the power in this too.

So. She was really doing this then.

What the hell should she even wear?

Oh, shit. How did she even take her clothes off while hanging off a pole?

This was going to require a lot more prep than she'd thought.

The detective had been walking around the entire day looking like she had a secret.

A delicious secret, from the look of things, with secret little smiles and a sexy little swagger and little skips when she thought no one was watching, and every time she met Lucifer's eyes hers would positively _smolder_ and mischief would glint at him from the corners of her lips, so Lucifer had turned to her as they left the interrogation room mid-morning and asked, “Something you'd like to share, Detective?”

She'd played coy and flirty—both of which were new and far too enticing—fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, straightening his collar, just anything to touch him, her eyes on her fingers and her mischief so pronounced he was starting to get a bit of a cockstand from that alone. Just what could she be up to?

But all she'd said was, “Oh, nothing much. Trixie's going to Dan's, so maybe you'll see tonight? After you're done at Lux, of course. I could wait for you in the penthouse?”

Lucifer had smiled and said, “Of course,” resigning himself to having to wait to figure out the mystery.

And then the detective had caught his hand and pressed something into his palm, saying, “Here. You might need this.”

She'd walked away as he'd opened his hand and stared at the small key sitting there, his curiosity nearly driving him mad, and it'd been burning a hole in his pocket ever since. Making an appearance at Lux tonight had been more of a suggestion than an outright request on her part, so Lucifer had been tempted to skip it entirely, but his detective so rarely played these fun little games with him, so he'd been more than willing to see where it would take him.

And, when his elevator doors finally opened at just past midnight, he had never been more grateful to himself for being well behaved _in his life_.

Stepping into his penthouse felt like stepping into a dream, and Lucifer tread as softly as he could lest it shatter. The detective must have figured out the club light settings for his penthouse, because there were strobe lights of all sorts of colors and patterns moving through the main room while the sound system pumped out a circus-y pop tune with a bare-bones bass beat. What held his attention, however, was the sight of her dangling from her dance pole by one hand, slowly spinning, her feet walking in slow motion, looking so relaxed and at peace, her head tipped back, her golden hair loose and tumbling down her back in waves, eyes closed, and he watched as her free hand brought a red lollipop up to her mouth and she wrapped her lips around it with a sigh he could see more than hear, and her outfit…

Lucifer swallowed, and he dared to step closer.

“ _Round and round like a horse on a carousel…_ ”

The minx was wearing a sexy angel costume, complete with a ridiculous set of wings, an overabundance of glitter, and absolutely lethal platform stilettos that looked like glass. The kicker though was the heavy chain padlocked around her throat, and suddenly the weight of the key in his pocket was almost all he could feel. He watched her drift around and nurse on her treat until the song changed to one of her 90s faves, and he adjusted himself briefly in his trousers before speaking.

“Chloe.”

His voice betrayed both his delight and his desire in equal measure, and when she opened her eyes with a gasp, her blood red lips a perfect O around the candy on her tongue as her gaze met his, he smiled, wide and big and far too genuine to be sexy, but she smiled back just the same, looking far too sweet for someone about to do what he hoped on his life she was about to.

“Lucifer!” She sounded so happy to see him, and it made warmth rush through his veins. 

“Hello, Detective. I hope I haven't kept you waiting long?”

She slid down the pole and shook her head as she approached. “Not at all, I'm still warming up. I swear, getting dressed took _forever_.”

He eyed her up and down again, but he couldn't imagine there was much hidden beneath the short white sheath of her dress. But as they came closer together, he caught the scent of vanilla and spun sugar, and as he closed his eyes and breathed her in, he nearly prayed that all her preparations had revolved around getting edible body glitter arranged just so across her every nook and cranny.

Bloody Hell, did he want this woman.

He licked his lips, and tasted pure sweetness in the air. “Is there any way I can… assist you, my love? With your… warm-ups.”

She smiled again, ran a hand down his chest while the other pressed her lolly between her lips for a moment and then back out with a soft _pop_. “Maybe. Let's get you a drink first. It's about time to get this party started, don't you think?”

“Oh, yes, indeed.” And he tucked her hand in his arm and led her over to the bar.

Once Lucifer had his drink in hand, he tried to offer her a seat but the detective chose to stand between his thighs while he sat on the bar stool— _“don't want my muscles to start cooling down or this'll be over before it even starts”_ —and while they made small talk and flirted and swayed to the beat of her playlist, he fiddled with the lock at the base of her throat and relished the secret smile she gave him, and neither of them commented on it. Once he finished his first drink, she offered him a tray of molly and hand-rolled cigarettes that smelled like they were cut with his best weed. His detective clearly meant to party hard tonight, and oh, what a wonderful night it was shaping up to be.

He took one of each and learned to his complete surprise—and utter delight—that the detective knew how to shotgun, and more than half that first spliff was inhaled straight from her lips, his hands on her hips as she leaned into his chest to keep her balanced on her precariously high heels. After, he drained another glass of whiskey, took her hand, and led her out where they could dance in earnest, and Chloe—bless her—grabbed her candy off the bar top and held it between puckered, glossy lips. Her shoes made her nearly as tall as he was, and when he dragged her wings down her shoulders and closed the space between them, her rear was nestled against his lower abs and the very base of his cock, and sometimes, when the bass was just right, she would arch into the arm he held around her waist and grind his length between her upper thighs, flashing him her garters and the barest swatch of fabric at her apex, both in the most sinful lollipop red.

Her playlist was an eclectic mix of newer pop songs, older 90s jams, some rock classics, and of course, songs about the Devil. There was even that ballad from South Park that sent them both rolling. They had such a blast laughing over some of the song choices that he almost forgot all about the pole behind them, felt so good moving together that he almost didn't care about seeing her on it anymore.

Almost.

Elvis Presley's _Devil in Disguise_ came on next and they both broke out laughing, and Lucifer spun her out and back in to face him, starting an easy swing step that she still had some trouble falling into, and they both started laughing again.

“Really, Detective,” he said, twirling her again just to feel her reach out and steady herself with his arms, “I hardly schemed and I certainly never lied to you about being the Devil.”

She smiled the mischief smile again, squeezing his biceps and stopping their dance. “Whoever said I picked this song for you?” And before he could blink, she added, “Here. Hold this,” and stuck her sucker in his mouth.

He groaned as sweet cherry burst against his tongue, his eyes nearly rolled in his head, and he watched her back away with hooded eyes.

And when Chloe grabbed the bottom of her dress in both hands and whipped it over her head, revealing a red lace corset that was sheer over her belly and did wonders with her breasts and a matching thong that arched over her hipbones, his breath left him in a gust of air.

He caught the lolly before it fell from where it was dangling on his bottom lip. “Well, if I wasn't damned already…”

She smiled again and started towards him, her walk slow and predatory and doing amazing things to the sway of her hips and she pressed him back with her hands on his chest until he sprawled in the arm chair placed strategically before the dance pole. She leaned over him, threaded her fingers through his hair, and his eyes settled on the lock dangling in his face.

Damn and fuck, how he loved this woman.

“Stay,” she purred in his ear, and he nodded. “Good Devil.”

He laughed as she strutted away, back to the bar, returning in moments with the tray with his treats, a fresh glass, and a bottle to boot.

“You ready for a show?” she asked, setting the bounty down next to the sound system remote on the table to his right.

“Bloody Hell, yes. Am I ever.”

She laughed at his enthusiasm. “Then sit back, relax, and enjoy yourself.”

The music had changed to _Purple Haze_ , and as Chloe all but threw herself onto the pole, whirling around at speed to Hendrix and striking poses and contorting in a show of strength and flexibility that left him in awe, that dreamlike feeling he'd had when he'd first stepped off the elevator came back tenfold, a mix of the vision before him and the first bit of ecstasy finally hitting his system. Never in a million years had he thought she would actually dance like this for him, but he was so, _so_ happy to be proven wrong.

Lucifer popped another pill at the next song change and lit another cigarette. This was a night where she wanted him to indulge in his natural hedonism, and he was more than happy to oblige, but the thing he was taking pleasure in the most was _her_ , watching her dance, watching her watch him watch her dance, so he only wanted to keep the buzz going, keep his edges just the slightest bit fuzzy, to keep the dream from shattering.

She slowed her pace for this song, striking and holding a pose that was nearly a split, holding onto the pole between her side and the leg she held up high by her head, her other leg held out straight, spinning so close to him he could reach out and touch her if he dared, but he didn't, _couldn't_ , could never break this spell, and this was his detective, dancing in panties so small he could see the folds of her labia trying to peek out at him from beneath the red lace she wore, and he could see she was shaved bare now even though he knew from touch alone that there were normally soft curls there, and holy shit, _this was all for him._

And when some cover of _Kiss the Devil_ came on she was right there on top of him, giving him her all and dominating him for it, and he nearly came in his pants from the lap dance cum make out session alone, and she hadn't even taken anything else off yet. But then _Closer_ came on and she started working her way back to her pole, crawling on hands and knees, sliding and writhing along the floor, and just generally letting him look his fill at her perfect bare ass.

“ _I wanna fuck you like an animal…_ ”

And she sat up, looked at him over her shoulder, and started working open the hooks going up her spine. She tossed the corset away and his eyes trailed the length of her back, the smooth planes of muscles flexing beneath soft skin, and then she was on the floor again and her straight legs spread wide, her ass lifting high in the air, and he heard her moan as she pressed her perfect tits hard against his cool tile, and he watched enraptured as Chloe fucking Decker shook her ass in the Devil's face, traced his hungry eyes down to her pussy playing peek-a-boo with that damned thong, down the shadowed slope of her belly, all the way to those glorious mounds moving and dragging along his floor.

“ _I wanna feel you from the inside…_ ”

Chloe wrapped one hand around the base of the pole as she dropped to her knees, her legs still wide enough, ass still high enough to give him a perfect view of her other hand as it smoothed its way down her stomach all the way to cup her cunt. Her eyes left him at the touch, sliding closed, and he echoed her moan as she began rocking into her hand. He sank lower in his chair, one hand lighting up another cigarette while the other squeezed in pulses against his cock through his slacks. Then the detective slipped her hand inside her panties, right there, naught but a yard from his face, and started frigging herself in slow, steady strokes as the beat went on, so he freed himself to match her.

He wouldn't need another molly at this rate. He was pretty sure he was higher than he'd ever been right now.

By the time a cover of _Feeling Good_ came on, they were both watching each other find their pleasure with lustful eyes and delighted smiles, but apparently the detective felt the song was too good to let pass without moving to, so she extracted her hand, pussy sadly properly covered this time, and she finished crawling up the pole to began her dance again, almost all of it upside down this time, which did absolutely amazing things with her breasts.

Oh, her breasts. He loved finally getting to put a visual to the buds he'd grown so familiar to with his tongue, loved getting the chance to try to think of the perfect name for _just that_ shade of pink, loved getting to watch them pucker and harden in the open air as she moved and moved and moved.

For him.

So he smoked and wanked and watched her fly, savored every line of her as she rose and fell and moved as the music bade her, as she laughed and smiled and held his eyes, or let her eyes follow his hand as it moved over his length.

Still upside down, by an ankle this time, the detective found his eyes again and tucked her free heel into the waistband of her panties and pushed them down her legs till they were around her ankles, and he had to reach a hand inside his trousers and damn near strangle his balls while the other was just as merciless to the base of his cock, and then she grabbed onto the pole again with her hands, slipped the thong off the one ankle, visibly braced herself, and slowly lowered her legs, till the one with the panties still dangling from it was parallel to the ground and nearly kicking Lucifer in the face, the other up higher, helping to keep her balance—and when the Hell did she learn this move? He thought he'd seen them all at this point, but bloody fucking Hell was that impressive—and he leaned forward in his seat enough that on her next go round he was able to snatch the piece of lace off with his mouth.

It tasted of sweat and cupcakes and arousal, and thank fuck that body glitter was edible.

Soon she was in his lap again for another lap dance, of a sort. With his cock out already and her in just that damned lock and those heels that made it seem like she was floating and with every part of her so slick and wet and rubbing against him so tight, it was only the matter of a moment before he was coming all over them both, even though _Take Me To Church_ was as far from sex music as he'd ever thought there was for him until just now. He breathed for a few seconds, then downed another molly with the last of the whiskey while she changed playlists. What came out next was definitely what they both agreed upon as sex music, and Lucifer took the cue to carry her into his bedroom.

He had a detective to devour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all, long time no write, Ik. lol Lots of family drama this last week, but things are settling down, and I swear I'm trying my best to settle in for the long haul. I've got some catching up to do. lol
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed. If the spirit moves ya, leave a comment.
> 
> Live long and prosper and all that jazz.


	5. Massage

Chloe set Lucifer down on the foot his bed as gently as she could, trying to be careful of the wound in his side. He was silent save a sigh as he helped ease his weight down. He'd been silent since they'd left the hospital and all during the long ride home to Lux. The silence was killing her, but it was better than trying to talk when Lucifer was sitting there bleeding through his shirt like nothing was wrong. So he was silent, because he knew she wasn't alright and that this wasn't something his words were going to be able to solve, but that meant Chloe was left to her thoughts.

What sort of universe was this, where love made immortals weak? What kind of bullshit was _that_? Chloe's every love was her every strength, but Lucifer… his love was literally his only weakness. Why was the universe so fucked up? She wanted so much to blame his Father, but he and his brother thought it had more to do with themselves and their own perceptions than any sort of judgment from on high. Was that really how he thought of her? But then, why be with her? Did he think he _had_ to be prone before her as, like, some kind of proof that he was really, truly, _actually_ in love and _that_ was why he was this way? Or did he really think she only took from him and gave him nothing in return?

Fuck. _Did_ she give him nothing in return? Could she really give him anything at all?

She realized she was just standing there in the middle of his bedroom while Lucifer fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. He was still bleeding. She sighed, ran a hand through her hair, nearly half out of its tail by this point. “Shit. Just… stay here?”

He nodded, still too quiet and unsure of her, still not meeting her eyes, and she left to go get some first aid supplies. Thankfully, he'd taken to keeping an actual kit behind the bar, insanely more well stocked than anything she'd find at a pharmacy, and she only need to grab some towels, washcloths, and a bowl of water to round things out. As she set her findings out back in the bedroom, she asked, “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

He had to clear his throat before he spoke. “A glass of whiskey would not be amiss right now.”

She nodded. “You got it.” And then, when she returned again and he was sipping from his glass, “Are you in pain?”

Now it was his turn to sigh. “It's nothing to worry about, Detective.”

“Bullshit. How bad is it?”

“You heard the doctor. I'll be fine.”

“How is the pain you're feeling _right now_ , Lucifer? Right this minute. How are you feeling?”

He sighed again, shrugged, took another sip from his glass. “Rather like I've been stabbed in the side, Detective. I'll be fine soon enough. Tomorrow will be business as usual.”

Fuck but she was far too close to crying right now. “Dammit, Lucifer.”

He closed his eyes in defeat, like he'd actually thought any of that was supposed to make her feel better. “I'll be fine, love,” he said again, quietly.

“But you're not fine _now_ , Lucifer, and that's the problem.”

His brow furrowed. “How do you mean? A couple hours from now, and I'll be good as new. That's hardly too long a wait.”

“That's not the point!”

“Then—”

“The point is that you almost died, you— _argh_!” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, swallowed her anger down because it wasn't him that she was mad at, not really, and he didn't deserve her name-calling on top of being injured. “Look. You almost died. _Lucifer_. It only takes a moment to die, and you almost—and I couldn't—I didn't… and this is all my fault!”

“ _Detective_!”

“Well, it is! You're, like, one of the top five most powerful creatures in the multiverse, _full stop_ —”

“Top three, at least,” he muttered.

“—and _look at you_! Some random little shit just _drew your blood_. Some… random fucking _mortal_ almost just killed the unkillable because apparently that's what I was made to do!”

“No. Detective, no, we've already talked about—”

“And yet we're _here_ , with you waiting for me to leave so you don't feel fucking pain anymore and you're trying to be evasive about it, be a fucking _gentleman_ about it, and this shouldn't be a problem! _Bleeding_ shouldn't ever be a thing you have to do. Feeling pain. _Dying_. I'd give anything to spare the people I love all those things, but we're _human_ and we _can't_ but _you can_! Dammit, Lucifer, I just—”

But he's stood and wrapped his arms around her now, whiskey glass abandoned to the floor, and she didn't need to find words anymore, could just cry and bury herself in his chest, her arms trapped between them because even now she wanted nothing more than to just take his pain away, to never be the cause of it again.

“I love you too,” he murmured into her hair. “Oh, darling, I do. And love is… openness, and trust, and it's vulnerability. And I _like_ it this way. I like getting to set everything… everything _He_ ever made me to be aside and just be myself… with an equal. With a partner. With a job _I chose_ , so don't you cry, Detective. Never for this.

“And I like the pain. I never knew pleasure before I knew pain, and this, with you… _Chloe_. I never knew it could be like this. I've been alive for _eons_ , and it never even occurred to me that this was something I could have, that it was alright to want this—and I never deny myself anything I want, but _this_ … I just knew it wasn't for me, until you gave it to me. You give me everything I've never brought myself to ask for, Chloe Decker, and _I love you_. Pain is the privilege that comes with loving someone, and pleasure the blessing of being loved in return. My pain keeps me grounded, keeps me real, and I wouldn't have it any other way. So don't cry for me, my love. All is well, and all is as it should be.”

Chloe sighed, filled with warmth and dread and resolve, and she sunk further into his chest for a minute more, just until her eyes were dry, then she cupped his cheeks and met his gaze. “Are you _sure_?”

Lucifer rested his forehead against hers. “More than anything.”

“And you don't want me to go for a little while?”

“ _Never_.”

She smiled, pressed a kiss to his lips. “Okay. Okay then. Let me take care of you.”

And so he did.

Chloe took off his clothes one by one and covered his bed in towels before laying him down, giving him a sponge bath and changing his bandages. The wound really didn't look too bad now that she had a close-up, but it could have easily been so much worse.

Once the necessities were done with, Chloe kept tracing her hands over the lines of his body, watching him relax bit by bit. “Can I give you a massage?”

Lucifer, eyes still closed, answered with a happy moan.

It was a matter of moments to find the massage oils and the blinds to block out the late afternoon light. Since Lucifer customarily spent a lot of time around the penthouse naked, the temperature was already pleasantly warm, so that was all the preparation she felt she needed to bother with. She chose the oil with the chamomile in it, prompted him to roll over, straddled his rear, and got to work.

If he truly felt that pain was a privilege, that it made them equals, then there was nothing she could do to take it away. All that was left was for her to make her love the blessing he already thought it was. She would do all she could to set him flying on wings of a different sort, to give him back the stars and every wonder of the cosmos he'd ever admired. She couldn't even fathom what all he was giving up to be with her, but she was determined that he'd never have cause to miss a thing.

And so she worshiped every inch of him she touched, with words and fingers both, caressing and kneading each spot until it was warm and loose beneath her hand, her lips pressing praises and devotion into his skin incessantly. All down his back, she traveled, from his neck to the mounds of his ass, from the back of his thighs to the tips of his toes, and then she helped roll him over and worked her way back up. And as an hour passed them by, Lucifer's soft moans and murmurs of her name became wordless sighs instead as he began to drift off.

Until she switched to lube and started massaging his inner thighs and around the base of his cock, his balls and the sacred spot behind them.

His moans came back anew, and Chloe had to interrupt her litany of praises to tell him to keep breathing deeply, slowly, to keep on floating higher and not to worry about ever coming down. She spent long, long minutes there without touching his need, both of them happy with her hands where they were, his erection waxing and waning, but when he finally asked for it, she gladly took him in both hands, pulsing her grip and massaging up and down the shaft until well after he was fully hard, then shifting to one hand around the head after rolling the foreskin back, the other returning to his balls for a time, then switching, only this time reaching further back, to the tight ring of muscle hidden there and beginning to massage that warm and loose too. She had to tell him to mind his breathing again, but Lucifer was the one who'd introduced her to tantra anyway, he knew the drill, and he sunk his consciousness deep into his body again like it was second nature.

And when he asked her to stay _right there_ , she did, even though she knew he was going to come, and he did, but he kept his spunk, kept everything inside, let his pleasure flow through him like waves breaking endlessly against a shore, and she eased off, massaged him from thighs to chest and back again while he trembled through the aftershocks.

After, once she'd wedged a pillow under his hips and he'd adjusted the bend to his knees, she changed her focus from his penis to finding his prostate. He welcomed the first small intrusion easily, hardly seeming to notice the wiggling tip of her finger in the wake of her other hand rolling and milking his balls, then massaging his flaccid cock, and back and forth again and again, but as her finger delved deeper, as she found his nerve center, as she added another, Chloe found herself interrupting her praises more and more often in favor of reminding him of his breaths instead, and soon they were just looking into each other's eyes and she ran out of words altogether—just _“I love you, I love you, I love you”_ —and when he reached for her hand and said, _“Like this. Oh! Just like this!”_ she took her hand from the head of his cock and let him place it over his heart while his eyes slid closed and she massaged him there too until he came and through it and after it, and she kept on massaging him inside too, pressing her fingers below and around his prostate while he was in the throes of bliss and only applying direct pressure once he asked for it with the motion of his hips—and it didn't matter how sore and tired her hand was, she swore she'd send him off like this as many times as he wanted her to.

But then she noticed the precome weeping from his slit was literally _glowing_.

Sparkly white body fluid was probably not something she should want to taste, but, “Let me taste you, baby.”

“Chloe… _Chloe_ …”

“Let me put my mouth on you.”

“ _Yes_!”

And then just like that the hand stroking his chest went immediately to stroking his shaft instead, pulling the foreskin back so she could _suck_ on the head of his cock, so she could swallow and lap up every drop of this fucking magical jizz that tasted the same but somehow sent her head spinning, and she sucked and sucked, and stroked and rubbed him inside and out, begging him to bless her with more, and oh, fuck, did he ever, coming with a yell in long, pulsating jets into her mouth, so much, so fast, it was impossible to catch it all and when he'd emptied himself into her, she pulled her fingers out of him, cleaned them on the towels probably much too quickly, and started massaging his chest again with both hands while she eased him through his aftershocks with her tongue, lapping up every bit of glowing white semen she could find while she was at it.

She cleaned his cock, his thighs, and her own chin, and as she nursed between his cheeks his quakes intensified, and he came again when her nose nudged into the spot in his taint where his prostate was, and so she cleaned him all over again, even though his come wasn't radiating divinity anymore, even though she was pretty sure she heard him snore just now, she still didn't stop until the tremors subsided.

Lucifer was indeed well asleep at this point, and Chloe smiled at a job well done even as she started massaging the kinks forming in her hand. She should probably mention that she'd accidentally-on-purpose swallowed actual divine essence sooner rather than later, but as she tucked Lucifer in and kissed his forehead goodnight, she figured it could wait until he was better.

He was _fine_ , she kept reminding herself, during the long moments she spent carding her fingers through his hair while he slept, postponing getting ready to go for as long as she could.

He was fine, and he was safe, and he was here.

They still had time for everything.

But maybe… maybe she was done with waiting.

And when Lucifer woke several hours later, it was to an empty bed, a freshly cleaned room, and a note on his bedside table, a desire of the detective's own for a change.

> _Lucifer,_
> 
> _I love you. I want you. Please. As soon as you're healed, come to me._
> 
> _All my love,  
>  Chloe_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: lingam loosely translates to "wand of light," which quickly inspired the silly direction this chapter went in at the end.
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed. If the spirit moves ya, leave a comment.
> 
> Live long and prosper and all that jazz.


	6. Food

> _I keep imagining you choking on my dick… I never, ever want to hurt you, but in my mind… oh, Detective, how you want it. I have you by the hair and you're simply gagging for it, my love, so wet for it, so desperate for it that you don't need air to breathe anymore, you just need me… and so of course I give it to you._
> 
> _I am, after all, a gentleman._

The detective was relentless when she was proving a point. Though just what the point was exactly had been long lost to the halls of memory, misplaced in a haze of pleasure. Lucifer was pretty sure it had been a lot longer and more involved once upon a time, but just because it was simple now didn't mean it was any less profound in his eyes:

Chloe Decker will take care of the Devil, for now and for always.

Presently, she was feeding him by hand the dinner he'd sent out for them while they laid cuddled on his sofa watching movies. He'd ordered a spread of nibbles so they could eat without making a mess, and she'd seized the opportunity to pamper him without him even noticing at first, as though this was simply the natural course of things now, and his soul felt like it was soaring ever higher with each bite, with each burst of flavor across his palette, with each brush of his tongue over her fingers. He couldn't say what was on the television for the life of him.

She shifted against him to reach a plate on the far side of the coffee table, and he moaned as her belly pressed more firmly into his cock, halfway erect for her already from her attentions alone. They were both content to ignore it for now though, too interested in prolonging this moment between them, and as she slid another piece of food between his lips he sighed in bliss.

Around his mouthful, he said, “You should eat.”

He felt her smile into his neck. “I plan on it.” And she gave his prick a squeeze.

Lucifer moaned again and spread his legs, loving the feel of her weight settling into the cradle of his hips, suddenly so eager to have her there, and she laughed at his eagerness, but it was a pleased sound, a happy sound, and he was both of those things himself right now, especially as she pulled the coffee table and its food closer and slid further down his body. She fed him another nibble with one hand and freed him from his slacks with the other, and then her mouth was right where he wanted it most.

She worked him over slowly, with lips and tongue alone, while one hand snuck under his shirt to pluck at his nipples and the other kept sliding the finger food between his lips, and sometimes it was just her fingers, thrusting gently while he suckled them, a mirror of the way she was nursing his cock, until she slipped them from his mouth to fetch more food. She didn't break out any fancy tricks tonight, and he was glad of it, loving simply that she was able to do this and be so comfortable. She kept her pace easy, her mouthful manageable, and instead of bobbing over him she rested her head on his hip, nodding against him, sucking and swirling her tongue around him as it suited her, and it was perfect.

She could keep this up for hours if she was of a mind to.

Goddess that she was, she was probably still following the bloody movie too.

He just threaded one hand through her hair, petting her over and over, and let her feed him until he was full and writhing and desperate for her, then his other hand caught her wrist when it went for more food and he began to work his mouth over her fingers and palm in earnest, sucking and nibbling and caressing with his tongue until her nerve endings came alight and she was moaning too, and his other hand wasn't petting anymore but locked and knotted deep into the strands at the base of her neck, a silent plea for more, a steady presence saying simply _now, do it now, I'm ready_ , and her other hand finally let his nipples rest in favor of stroking him off while her lips wrapped tight about the head of his cock and _sucked_ and _sucked_ and—

“ _Fuck_!” he cried. “Oh, fuck! Oh, holy… Oh… Oh, holy fuck. _Chloe_ …”

“Mm?” she hummed, swallowing down his seed and licking his limp cock clean.

He was oversensitive in the best of ways, and it was too perfect to let it end. “Don't stop?”

“Mmm.” And she wrapped her lips around him again, not doing anything to him but holding him there in her warmth and wetness and comfort, her eyes turned back to that damned TV.

He just relaxed his hold on her hair and closed his eyes, stroking her hair once more and letting himself get lost in every small motion of her tongue, in the feel of her breath over the base of his cock, in the contractions of her mouth with every reflexive swallow. They were well into the next movie by the time he became fully conscious of the fact that he was hard again and she was idly sucking him off once more.

He stopped her with the hand in her hair, coaxed her off of him and up to meet his gaze in spite of her moans in protest. “Detective.” When he was sure he had her sole attention, he stroked her throat and asked, “May I fuck you here?”

She groaned, so loud he felt it vibrate through the fingers on her neck, and she nodded rapidly, breathing heavy, absolutely panting for it and rubbing her thighs together, keening lightly in the back her throat and writhing all along his body.

He smiled, positively heady with excitement. So she _had_ read that one after all. The panting was mostly for the sake of oxygen intake, but it made for one Hell of a show. As for the rest… “Naughty, naughty, Detective. You _want_ me to do this to you, don't you?”

“ _Yes_.”

And that was verbal consent, the last green light he needed. He hauled her to his mouth by that beautiful throat of hers and mauled her lips till she was panting in earnest. “How do you want to take it?” he murmured into her mouth.

“A… a pillow under my shoulders. Kneeling over my face.”

He hummed, kissed her hard once more. “Your wish is my command.” And he went to go get the pillow.

He was mildly disappointed that he wouldn't get to see her face redden or her eyes fill with tears while they looked up into his, still begging him for more, but the trade-off was worth it considering her comfort and the benefit of watching his own cock move inside her throat. He paused on his way back in from his bedroom and stripped his trousers and pants off all the way, kicking off his shoes once they got in his way and not bothering with his socks. It had just occurred to him that his balls would be right in line to smack her in the face with every thrust and to smother her nose altogether once they drew up tighter. In fact, he'd get to see her entire body writhe in desperate agony while he fucked her, would get to see it jerk and buck and clench with a longing for air, for touch, for _relief_.

This was a very good position indeed.

The detective was lying on her back right where he'd left her on his couch, still fully clothed, still panting in as much air as she could get, her hungry eyes still locked on his cock. He lifted her shoulders to tuck the pillow under her, and she stole a lick to the underside of his dick. He pinched her nipple in retaliation but laughed all the same, especially as she cried out and arched into the cruel touch. Now look at who was so eager.

Lucifer positioned himself on his knees above her head, tilting her chin back and caressing the long line of her throat, relishing the bob of her larynx beneath the palm of his hand. He pressed his thumb into her mouth and she latched onto it eagerly, suckling and flicking her tongue over it while he gathered some of her hair with his free hand and started jerking himself with it. Chloe was a moaning mess before him, fondling her breasts, feeling up her thighs, caressing her stomach, cupping herself through her jeans.

“Finger yourself, Detective,” he said, voice just this side of breathless. “Wanna watch you frig yourself raw while I fuck you.”

She groaned around his thumb in her mouth, fumbling quickly at the fasteners on her jeans and plunging one hand deep into the opening, the other squeezing her breast. He slid his thumb out and caressed her lips as they fell open and her tongue came out to chase him, strings of saliva connecting them and then breaking, making her lips shine. He unwrapped her hair from his cock and prodded at her mouth with the head, and her tongue and lips were quick to service him there too, her near-constant moans from the way she was stroking her clit driving him even higher.

Finally, it felt like his next orgasm wasn't too far off, and he said, “You ready?”

“Yes!”

“You want it?”

“Yes, baby, please!”

He _tsk_ ed. “That doesn't sound like you want it very bad.”

“ _Please_! Please, baby, I want you to fuck me so hard! Please, lemme choke on it! I wanna choke on it so bad, baby, _please_ , please just fuck me— _mmph_!”

“ _Fuck_ yes,” he groaned, as she shrieked and gagged on his cock in her throat, “your wish is my command,” and she came and came around her fingers in her pussy, her other hand digging crescents into his ass and trembling, caught between pulling him deeper and pushing him back, and he kept pressing in, as deep as he could go, until he was sure her jaw ached something fierce, and then he ground into her face even more, and she just kept coming and coming, and she wasn't even fingering herself anymore, her body bucking and squirming and desperate for air, and he finally pulled out again, let her gasp and pant and gag and choke, and then he was back, setting a vicious pace, batting her hand away from her pussy and replacing her fingers with his own, using them and a hand on her tit for leverage more than anything else at this point and it was all she could do to grab onto his ass with both hands and hold on for the ride—and oh, fuck but was she _glorious_!

He cried out every dirty praise for her that crossed his mind while he lost himself in the feel of her throat spasming around him, in the rhythmic smacks of his sack on her face, in the sight of his cock moving beneath the flesh of her neck, in the waves of her body as it struggled against them both, in the feeling of her pussy clamping down around his fingers incessantly, in the feel of her orgasmic cries as they vibrated through his cock pounding deep into her throat, and please, fuck, don't tap out now, he was so fucking close, please don't tap out, please don't tap out, please don't—

“ _Yes_! Oh, you fucking amazing woman. You dirty, magnificent, _perfect_ fucking woman. Oh, fuck, you milk my cock so good, look at that throat work, that glorious fucking neck of yours. So good. You're so good. Fuck, such a good girl you are, I got you now, love. _Fuck_. What a bloody marvel you are.”

But the detective didn't hear a word he said, because as soon as he shot his load he removed himself and started fingering her as deep and as hard as he knew she liked it, driving into her G-spot and keeping her coming over and over for as long as she could stand, and when she finally bade he stop, she was just as limp and satisfied as he had been, so he decided to return her earlier favor and hand feed her some real food.

After all, she wasn't the only one in this relationship who got to do the pampering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed. If the spirit moves ya, leave a comment.
> 
> Live long and prosper and all that jazz.


	7. Shower

Chloe sighed as she finally gave into temptation and dropped her washcloth to circle her soapy nipples with her fingers instead. Lucifer was taking care of Trixie right now to let her shower in peace, making sure her daughter's homework was all set for the morning and that her teeth were brushed and face was washed and that she was tucked in bed for the night, so she should have the time to relax and take as long in here as her hot water heater could handle. And so it was that she leaned against the far wall, let the spray tease in between her lower lips, and just had fun with her own titties for a while, enjoying the chance to get reacquainted with her body and taking the opportunity to do a quick mammogram while she was there.

She'd just started dipping her fingers in and around her folds when the opening of her bathroom door made her jump and almost slip.

“Oh, apologies, Detective, didn't mean to startle you.”

She huffed a relieved laugh at Lucifer's blurry form through the shower curtain and started back up her teasing once she had her balance. “It's fine, Lucifer. You know you have an open invitation to pretty much everywhere at this point.”

She heard him hum happily, and she finally brushed lightly over her aching clit so her moan would hide under his voice as he said, “Yes, we have already had sex most everywhere and every way I can conceive of. We've had a very productive year, darling.”

Chloe laughed again, drawing the hood of her clitoris up and baring it to the shower spray, dipping it in and out of the stream. “Yeah,” she breathed, toes curling, “that's one word for it.”

She kept playing with herself, getting lost in the sound of Lucifer's voice as he carried blithely on, talking about Trixie and how she was settled and fast asleep for the night before moving on to talking about the rest of his day as he went through his ablutions at the vanity. He was just recounting a conversation with… someone at work—Ella maybe? Or Dan?—when she finally slipped a finger inside her pussy and moaned.

Everything on the other side of the curtain stopped. “Detective…”

“Huh?” she gasped as she pressed deeper, rubbing circles around her G-spot, then on it, then back around again.

“Are you touching yourself right now?” He sounded positively delighted at the prospect.

She nodded even though he couldn't see. “Uh huh. Have been since before you came in.”

“And you're only just mentioning this _now_?”

She shrugged before adding another finger, massaging her front wall mercilessly now, her free hand working her breast. “It was fun,” she moaned, her climax just within reach.

“Wait, wait! Don't get off without me!”

There was a flurry of motion outside the shower as Lucifer stripped his clothes off, but Chloe was waiting for no one right now, and when he finally flung the curtain open and stepped in to join her, it was to the sight of her falling apart under her own touch. He stood before her with darkening eyes locked on hers as she worked herself through it and then again, because she just knew she could come again, and it was _right there_ , literally at the tips of her fingers, and then yes, yes, _fuck_ yes, she was coming again even harder, squirting audibly into the palm of her hand while her legs trembled and her muscles clamped tight onto her fingers, and finally Lucifer moved to her, sweeping her up in his arms and smothering her with his kisses.

He broke away with a gasp, warm water flinging from the curls plastered to his head. “I thought I told you to wait.”

She grinned at him. “That first one was mine.”

“And the second?”

“Was just the end of the first one really.”

He laughed. “You minx. The next one's mine, make no mistake.”

She hummed, kissed him again, all tongue and teeth and _want_. “I was counting on it.”

He tapped her rear. “Hands on the wall, Detective. Spread 'em. You've been terribly naughty, dear. I'm afraid I've simply no choice but to frisk you.”

“Oh, no,” she mock gasped, assuming the position. “Whatever shall I do?”

“Mhm,” he murmured, his hands roving over her, “keep it up, darling, and I'll have to assume you're still hiding something. Maybe a full cavity search is in order here?”

“Oh,” she moaned as his hands grabbed her ass cheeks and parted her for his gaze.

He traced the dark skin there while she wiggled before leaning into her and whispering against her ear, all teasing gone, “Let me taste you here.”

“Fuck yes.”

And then he was on his knees behind her, his hands on her hips pulling her further into his face as he suckled on the bud of her ass, flicking his tongue over her lightly, so quickly, and she gasped and trembled and ground back into him even more, and fuck but he was so fucking good at this. Her pussy was clenching around nothing and she wanted so badly for his fingers to take care of her there, for his cock, but dammit, his mouth felt so good. It was a matter of moments before he wriggled his tongue past the tight ring of muscle there, and with each thrust of her hips back he pushed himself deeper and deeper into her, until his mouth was open wide and she was stretched around the meat of his tongue while it flexed and rolled with inhuman strength, the tip tickling and massaging her walls in counterpoint.

 _Fuck_ , she was so wet right now.

“ _Please_ ,” she cried, trying desperately not to raise her voice. “Baby… fuck, baby, _please_. Need your cock, baby. Need your cock. Fuck me. Oh! Oh, _please_ , fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…”

He pulled out of her to answer, and she just about sobbed with frustration. “You want me to fuck you in your ass, Detective?”

“ _Yes_. Yes, yes, yes, _please_ , yes, anything.”

“Then so I shall,” he said, standing. “Once I get you to bed, I think. The hot water's nearly gone, and frankly, I want your cunt first.”

And that was all the warning she had before he was thrusting home inside her pussy with one smooth stroke, and she cried out, keening and grinding into him once he'd bottomed out, already so close to coming again, so ready for it, so desperate, and he didn't tease, grabbed her by her hair and her hip and set a punishing pace, pressing her head into cool tile while she braced her arms as best she could, and then she canted her hips _just so_ and his next thrusts nailed her G-spot and sent her to the stars, her inner muscles milking him for seed he wouldn't give just yet, her own release spattering against the shower wall and making Lucifer moan and fuck her harder, hammering into her until she came again and he pulled out just to watch her squirt even harder and she had to muffle her scream around her own fist as her muscles contracted around the sudden emptiness, but not for long because he was in her again in a moment, driving her higher and higher and doing it all over again, making her come and come until she finally came dry, and only then did he empty himself in her depths, grinding out his release in such a way it sent her pussy clamping down on him all over again, milking him for all he was worth.

The water was just edging into uncomfortably cool by the time she roused herself and nudged Lucifer from where he was nuzzling her neck, cock still nestled inside her. “Hit the water?”

He kissed her neck and slipped out of her, to soft noises of loss on both their parts, and he turned off the water and grabbed a towel to dry her off with. “So…,” he began once she was dry and standing by the sink, brushing her teeth.

She glanced up at him in the mirror to see his eyes were glued to her rear as he dried himself off and she smiled around her toothbrush. “Mm?”

He wiggled an eyebrow at her. “Still in the mood for some anal, darling?”

She had to spit in the sink just so she could laugh freely at that. He was absolutely _insatiable_. “Just so long as you're up for doing all the work.”

He grinned, more than satisfied with her answer. “It would be my pleasure, Detective.”

She rolled her eyes. “Cheese ball.”

“You love it.” He dropped his towel as he moved up behind her, grinning like the Devil he was, palming and massaging her ass while she cleaned her face.

She smiled at his eagerness, his boyish happiness. “Yeah, I really do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed. If the spirit moves ya, leave a comment.
> 
> Live long and prosper and all that jazz.


	8. Anal Play

Lucifer would indeed proceed to make love to the detective's ass once they made it to the bed, all the whole night through. He would lay her down and prepare her slowly, make a whole affair of it, massage her entire body limp and loose and warm and take her just as gently, and he would even wake up early and entertain the child with pancakes and Saturday morning cartoons so she could sleep in. It wasn't quite routine, but it had happened often enough that it was getting to be.

Various forms of anal play had made a regular appearance in their sex life almost from the very start. It was something they were both comfortable with asking for, both to give and to receive. He'd explored her ass thoroughly with fingers and tongue before ever getting to fuck her there. The first time it happened, the dam on intercourse had finally broken about a month before and they'd been quite literally all over each other during every moment they could spare, neither capable of even possibly _considering_ desiring something more or different for the longest time.

But, as with many of their firsts, there came a day after they'd wrapped up a case, a Friday as luck would have it, when the detective had to deal with the ensuing paperwork. Lucifer, naturally, was bored with sitting at her desk all day, and instead of seducing his partner or taking care of other business elsewhere, he decided to resurrect his list. To his knowledge, the detective hadn't been consulting it of late, and he certainly hadn't been adding to it, but as he browsed through it he saw that they'd still managed to check off quite a few items just in the natural course of things—which set an odd sort of pleasure in his blood, as though before this moment he'd been in doubt as to whether the detective was going out of her way to meet his desires or if they really did enjoy the same things by and large.

It seemed they really, truly did.

Just thinking of how well suited they were for each other, how their bodies were literally molded for one another, how they felt burning friction through each other's cores made him seriously reconsider his decision not to convince the detective to bless the evidence lock-up with him. Again.

But, that was what his pen was for, was it not? It was a beautiful thing to get lost in his desires again for a time, and he wondered why they'd ever stopped, but then he remembered the feeling of the detective's cunt coming around his cock and decided that was plenty reason for the universe to stand still for at least a year, let alone just the last month.

When the day was winding to a close, Lucifer handed her the one he desired most, tucking the rest into a random case file on her desk for her to discover later. He'd never outright asked for something before, not for one of these. He'd always just committed them to paper and left fulfillment up to the detective, content just to have shared them. But things were different now. He knew in his soul now and not just in his head that he could ask for anything he wanted without censure, and after rereading his own words for the last hour, there was nothing he desired more than this in that moment.

So he sat and watched her read it—also a first—watched her pleased surprise as he passed her the paper, watched her eyes darken and her blood rise high on her cheeks, watched the way she moistened her lips as her eyes reached the bottom only to return to the top and read it again, watched her squirm in her seat as her ache grew, watched the secret smile she wore when she thought of him bloom across her lips before she took the lower one between her teeth to nibble.

And he smiled.

He leaned over her desk and said, “Tonight?”

She nodded, met his eyes, all naked need and want and _desire_. “Tonight.”

The detective's spawn had a sleepover that night, so they'd already been planning to spend it together at his anyway, but now they had Plans and additional preparations needed to be made for her arrival, if only he could figure out exactly what to prepare. Now that the opportunity was nearly upon him, Lucifer found himself wondering if he truly wanted this first to play out exactly as he'd written it. When the fulfillment of these fantasies was left up to the detective, she almost always changed some or nearly all of the extraneous details involved. He had thought it was to make them more pleasurable for her or maybe it was a part of exercising her power as the executor of his desires, but now he was wondering if hadn't had more to do with not wanting any deviations or spontaneity to break them from the mood.

Finally, he settled on a set of sheets, a stick of incense, a setting for the lighting, some mood music, some sustenance, some lube, and his ideal position for the main event. The rest could work itself out as they went along, just the way it always seemed to with them.

He was just freshening up when he heard the elevator chime. “Make yourself at home, Detective!” he called. “I'll be with you in just a moment.”

“No rush,” came her raised voice. “We have all night.”

He grinned as he finished arranging his hair just so, and then he sauntered out to his bedroom and to the detective waiting for him there. She was standing before his open safe, placing her firearm, badge, and cuffs inside.

Huh. Well, there was a thought.

“Detective.”

She smiled at him over her shoulder as she removed her holster. “Hey.”

“Keep the cuffs, love.”

Her smile grew, and she nodded, biting her lip like she was shy, but Lucifer knew it belied only her excitement: she wanted to speak, to take charge, out of habit alone, but tonight what she truly desired was for him to be in control of her pleasure, and they both knew it. So of course they ended up bypassing the food and drinks on the bedside table in favor of stripping her instead.

The detective was quickly bound and laid out on his bed, shamelessly naked, her cuffs threaded around a bar in the center of his headboard.

He frowned for a moment as he looked at her spread before him, still fully clothed. “Be right back, darling. We need something under those cuffs.”

“ _Lucifer_. They're fine.”

He pecked her lips and left the bed. “I won't be but a moment.”

Lucifer was true to his word, returning to her and opening her cuffs in spite of her protests and slipping a padded leather pair around her wrists before redoing the metal ones over top, and then he slipped a shoelace he'd grabbed through the key and placed the makeshift necklace around her neck. They shouldn't need it, but one could never be too careful.

“ _Please_ , Lucifer. It's fine.”

He tutted as he double checked the restraints one more time. “Such a demanding little bottom you are, love. All good things and all that.”

She moaned, but Lucifer quickly decided that he was pleased with the set up and proceeded to silence her with a kiss. He lowered his body over hers, pressing into her and then lifting up when she arched so that the tips of her bare breasts only just brushed his shirt, only to press into her again when she fell back to the bed. After long moments spent teasing, the detective finally started trying to wrap her legs around his waist for more leverage, and he broke their kiss and the hold of her legs, moving to straddle them both before bathing her neck in kisses, reveling in the feeling of her writhing helplessly beneath him, in the sounds of her high, keening whines as he supped from her throat all the way down the slope of her shoulder and back up again to behind her ear.

There was a tug of war between conflicting desires in his chest, but as he finally turned his attention to her nipples, he decided that the time for denying her orgasm could wait for another night. He _loved_ watching her come, and so he broke out every trick he knew to make it happen through her chest alone. It took a few minutes, sure, but he was patient, and he was ardent, and soon enough he was rewarded with her breathy moans and sighs turning into cries of ecstasy, her ceaseless squirming turning into jerks against him, the chains binding her rattling with each one.

When she came down, he left her breasts to cool in the open air and smirked at her instead. “That's one. Keep count for me, will you?”

She gasped for a moment before, “…One.”

He kissed her mouth again, long and luxurious. “Good girl.”

Lucifer shed his shirt and jacket and slithered his way down her body, grabbing both her thighs to move her legs up and apart, before digging his mouth into her glistening folds with fervor. The detective cried out, struggling against his hold, trying to grind into his face, but she just couldn't find the leverage. He lavished attention on her inner thighs and outer lips before parting them and suckling the inner ones, lapping up the gush of liquid from her pussy that quickly followed, and then he finally deigned to nurse her where she wanted him most, moving his hands to wrap over her hips and gently pull back the hood covering his prize. The detective went absolutely wild beneath him, bucking and keening and crying and desperately calling out his name, but she did as he wanted and kept her legs spread wide for him, and he rewarded her with quick flicks and swirls of his tongue and increasing suction to her bare clit.

And when she wailed and trembled, her whole body an undulating wave, hips stuttering away from his persistent touch, she still managed to sob out, “Two! T-two! _Ohhhh_!”

He smiled and relented, caressing her quaking thighs. “So good, Detective. Very good indeed.”

And so he kept going, feathering kisses over her lower abdomen as he teased a lubed finger around the tight ring of muscle between her ass cheeks, just loving the way her breaths heaved and her belly flexed and fluttered, and then he was pushing in and she welcomed him with a sigh, muscles still rippling around him from her last orgasm even as she made herself relax for him. He opened his trousers and stroked himself with his free hand, and he spent long moments fucking her slowly just like that, one long finger stroking in and pressing against her walls, massaging her open from the inside, his mouth sucking hickeys into the skin of her stomach, hips, and thighs.

Soon enough she begged, “ _More_.”

And since she'd been so well behaved these last few minutes, Lucifer rolled her over, lifted her hips, and he gave it to her.

“Fuck!” she yelled, while he did just that with his cock in her pussy and his finger still deep in her ass. “Baby—oh, baby, _yes_ , _yes_ , _yes_! Lucifer! _Fuck_! Threeeeee!”

He grinned the grin of the virile and proud and kept thrusting into her while he took his free hand off her hip, squeezed more lube onto her ass and the hand there, and then added a second finger, scissoring and twisting and spreading her open as slowly as he could make himself while he was balls deep in her cunt. The detective was a beautiful mess like this, on her knees for him, her hands scrambling for purchase against the cuffs, her face pressed hard into his bed, her open, panting mouth dragging across his sheets while she grunted and did her best to meet his every thrust.

He moaned at the feel of his own fingers brushing his cock through the detective's inner walls. “Gonna come in your cunt, my love. Then I'll fuck your ass raw too.”

She moaned, pressed back even harder against him. “ _Fuck_ yes. Come, baby. Fuck, come on.”

And he emptied himself in her depths with a groan, unaccountably turned on by this beautiful creature, his hips and fingers still moving in her, driving her ever higher. “Bloody _hell_ , Detective. So demanding. Do try to remember who's bottoming tonight.”

“But you listen so good, baby.” He could hear her grin when she spoke, her pussy rippling around him intentionally and making him groan anew.

“Minx,” he grumbled with a nip to her shoulder.

Then he pulled out, and oh, how she wailed, and he spent an endless moment just watching her pussy clench and contract around nothing while she begged for him back, but then he added a third finger to her rear, slowly, pushing deeper and deeper, and soon she wasn't complaining about feeling empty anymore, grinding back on his hand buried in her to the knuckles and keening and convulsing around him, and bloody hell but she was magnificent, absolutely _marvelous_ , and he just kept pressing into her, letting her work herself off on him while he spread and rotated his fingers inside her, and then she was coming, _again_ , long and hard and positively _wrecked_ for him, and bless her, she even still remembered to count.

He pressed kisses into the trembling muscles of her ass, licked lightly at the tender flesh stretched around his hand. “Think four is enough, Detective? Are you ready for me?”

She moaned and gasped, “ _Yes_.”

He pulled his hand free and she whimpered but didn't complain, waiting patiently while he wiped his hand clean and then slicked his cock liberally with the lube until he was fully hard again, and then he was finally pressing into her, as slow and steady as ever, and when he bottomed out he just grinded against her for a while, gentle but insistent, his hands trailing the long arch of her back from her ass high in the air for him all the way to her shoulders and upper arms pressed down into his bed, just relishing this new experience with her, and she moved her hips back against him just as desperately, and soon there wasn't anything slow or gentle about their coupling anymore, and they rutted together with abandon just like the beasts they truly were, all pleasure and ferocity and joy.

The detective cried out her fifth orgasm, and then her sixth, and then it seemed that she never quite stopped coming after that, was just a quaking mass of blissed-out nerve endings that Lucifer had to manhandle until he found his own ends, fucking her so hard for so long that she'd screamed herself hoarse by the time he was finally about to come again, and his damned pants had fallen halfway down his ass by now and they were starting to impede his movements, so he ripped them in two at the crotch with one impatient hand before grabbing back onto her because dammit all he just _needed_ to be touching her, everywhere, right fucking now, and so he covered her body with his, smothering her, one arm wrapped around her hips and holding them up, pulling her into his frenzied thrusts, while the other hand wrapped in her hair and _pulled_ , and fuck if she wasn't coming even harder at that, and at the feel of his breath on her neck, the sound of his voice as he whispered he was coming—oh, fuck, _fuck_ , he was coming—and the sob that escaped her at that, all relief and remorse, made his release one of the sweetest of his existence.

After, he was quick to release her from her binds, but neither of them truly felt capable of movement, so they just collapsed on their sides right where they were, content to spoon in their mess for a short time.

And that was how they found that the sheets were positively _drenched_.

The detective was beyond embarrassed to think she might have peed the bed, but Lucifer was simply put out that he hadn't even noticed and was of course more than happy to detail everything he knew about the nature of female ejaculation, which quickly trailed off into enthusiastic plans of how he might get her to do it again sometime. The detective, satisfied that there was nothing to fret over, let Lucifer ramble on as he went about finally undressing himself and then stripping the sheets—including a waterproof fitted sheet that he'd been in the practice of using for years now specifically for wonderful moments like these—and putting on new ones, and she seemed happy to let him move her around as needed, limp and noodle-y as she was.

She would fall asleep in his arms to the sound of his voice not long after, and it would only be as he looked at the smile still on her lips that Lucifer would realize he had been speaking his fantasies aloud to her with all the manner of someone discussing what they might have for dinner.

It made him smile too, and he decided maybe they didn't need to start using his list again quite so often as they had at the start after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed. If the spirit moves ya, leave a comment.
> 
> Live long and prosper and all that jazz.


End file.
